I met Christy and April at the X-Scapers Bash in Lake Havasu last January. Christy and I discovered we both planned to drive to Alaska, so on July 3rd we met in Dawson Creek, the official starting point of the 1387 mile route. April joined us as well, and we had a little van caravan. It was an interesting experiment for three very solo, independent travelers to travel together. I think we found a good balance between accommodating each other and doing our own thing. It was good to be on the road together, though, because the Top of the World route is notoriously bad. They both had done it last year, and it was apparently way worse. Between the teeth-rattling washboard dirt roads, the potholes and frost heaves on the paved portions, I was glad to know it was an improvement. We mixed it up between organized campgrounds and boondocking (freecamp). There are some signature sights and traditions along the way. Different establishments all seem to vie for the World's Best Cinnamon Bun, so travelers must sample the wares and decide for themselves. There's the Signpost Forest; a worker building the highway in 1942 posted a sign from his hometown, and the idea caught on.
Liard Hot Springs, a must stop.
Dawson City is still very much a gold mining town, and we stayed two days to immerse ourselves in this historic place. It's always the same story; miners come and the Native residents are pushed out. But this town hit pay dirt at Bonanza Creek, and the gold kept coming. At one time Dawson City was called Paris of the North. Huge dredging machines were built which left gargantuan rock piles that can be seen from space. Here's a documentary about the history if you'd like to know more.
We did our part to bring tourist dollars to the economy. We saw Diamond Tooth Gertie and the Can Can Girls, and I drank the Sourtoe Cocktail, which is a shot of whisky with a fossilized human toe in it. I had a beer at Bombay Peggy's, and a lovely young woman named Sarah struck up a conversation with me, and bought me a shot! That's a first… She calls it a James Franco; Jameson whisky and a little Frangelico on top. She is a chef for the actors and crew of the long-running reality show Gold Rush.
We continued on to Chicken, so named because early miners would catch the plentiful Ptarmigan grouse, and wanted to name the town for the bird but couldn't agree how it was spelled, so they chose Chicken instead. Population 15, we did our part for the economy there, too.
Past the sketchy road, we went our separate ways. The tourist aspect was fun in all these towns, but the real star was the vast, undeveloped wilderness enveloping us, as we did our best to keep our eyes on the road. We passed black bears, moose (or was it caribou, or maybe elk…), mountain goats, a herd of bison. And here we were, rolling by rushing rivers, mountains and aquamarine lakes, on a road built during WWII to get military supplies to Alaska.
I drove to the official end of the ALCAN, Delta Junction, and kept on to Fairbanks. That's as far north as I'll go on this part of the journey. Sunset, if you can call it that, is around midnight, then it's barely twilight till sunrise.
There's lots to come in the next weeks; Vanstock, my friend Chris flying out to spend a week exploring, Salmon Fest, Bear Camp, a 10 day Ultimate Alaska tour, and visiting friends Donna Rae and Don in Homer. Feeling pretty good overall.
